Crossfire: Blood for Blood
by jollyroger103
Summary: Based on the three manga shorts appearing in Hellsing volumes 13, it follows the adventures of agents from the Vatican's Section XIII Iscariot.
1. Prologue: Enter Sandmen

Vienna, Austria

The footsteps echoed off the stone edifices of the buildings as a lone figure ran through the alleyways. His hurried breaths resounded as his feet slammed on the cobblestone. As the man made his way through the winding back ways, he turned from left to right, above and behind for the person that stalked him. Running for his life, Franz wondered why he'd been suckered into such a scheme. The plan had seemed simple; St. Agatha's would have its coffers full with the upcoming Christmas holiday. Breaking in and taking the money should have been simple. Who could have known that the priest would put up such a fight? Or that Ulrich would have a gun? They'd gotten away with the money, but only for a time.

Franz slipped on a patch of ice he didn't see, slamming into a group of garbage cans sitting in the alley. He froze as the sounds of the empty tin rang throughout the bare lots. He curled into a ball, trying to hide in the refuse that had spilled out. From the direction he had come, he heard the sound of doom. Heavy footsteps approached, calm and methodic. The dark form Franz had been fleeing appeared in the dim light from the nearby streetlights. At its side, the figure held a gleaming object, the same gun that had ripped through Ulrich and the other members of the gang. He tried to stifle his sobs of fear, tried to stop his quavering breath. His teeth began to chatter, not from the cold, but at the thought of what awaited him. The black shadow zeroed in on his huddled body, kicking the garbage can away from him.

"Please," he pleaded, "I didn't mean it!"

"First, you break into a church, during a time of great celebration. Then you have the audacity to steal money donated by the faithful," a grim feminine voice said. "If that wasn't enough, you and your friends had to go and kill a shepherd, who's only crime was in defending his flock."

"Come on! That can't mean I have to die," he demanded, "It isn't right!"

"You don't understand whom you're dealing with," she said, "but soon you will. Just try and pay the ferryman now. I praise the justice of the Lord; I celebrate the name of the Lord Most High."

BANG

St. Catherine's, Boston Mass.

The priest looked around the near-empty church carefully. Life had become complicated since the stories had broken on the national news. Now, every priest and church official was being scrutinized under a magnifying glass. He ducked into the Confessional, knowing that his secret would be safe there.

"Forgive me, for I have sinned," he said as the partition slid aside.

"I know," the silhouette answered. It wasn't something the priest was expecting.

"Excuse me?" he asked carefully. Maybe a crazy person or something had wandered into the church.

"I said, I know why you're confessing," the figure explained.

"You're not a priest, are you?"

"I am a priest, and I know what you've done. You betrayed God, His earthly kingdom, and a billion faithful souls."

"Wait a minute," the priest began, "Where exactly are you from?"

"I carry a shield with no heraldry."

His breath caught in his throat. Anyone who knew Christian art recognized the significance of a blank shield. To be represented by a blank shield meant one man.

"You really exist? There really is such an organization within the Church?" he queried.

"Of course. And we've been aware of you and your activities for a while now. Do you know what it really means to be transferred?"

"Not really…"he mumbled. This was worse than his worst nightmare. The second partition slid away to reveal a priest, barely in his twenties, with an amiable demeanor.

"By 'transfer,' we mean onto the next life," the other priest's face twisted into a malicious grin. It was then that he noticed the pistol cradled in his hand.

"Please, what about forgiveness, what about absolution?"

"You'll be given your chance to plead your case before God," he answered, leveling the pistol on him. "Truly the evil man shall not go unpunished, but those who are just shall escape," the young priest said as he pulled the trigger.


	2. Psalm 1

St. Peter's Basilica, Vatican City

The sun crested over the dome of the basilica, illuminating the seat of the Church in rose hued light. Even though the day had barely started, a certain section was already active. As he walked through the corridors of the Holy See, Father Maxwell walked with supreme confidence. He walked past the Swiss Guard, oblivious to their protestations, above their authority. Not even the venerable Section I Peter could tell _him_ what to do. There was only one authority on this earth that directed his actions, and it was to that authority he was going to. Regular visitations were still hours away, so no one would hear the conversation about to take place. Maxwell kneeled in the middle of the audience hall before the Throne of St. Peter.

"Your Holiness, I, Father Maxwell, head of Section XIII Iscariot, report as ordered," he said.

"You know why I have called you," the Pope said.

"Yes," Maxwell answered curtly before looking up.

"This business in America, it needs to be resolved immediately," the Pope said from his seat. "The Church does not back down because of threats."

"That, Your Holiness, is what we were created for," Maxwell said. "Iscariot was formed to exact the Vatican's divine punishment. Rest assured that we will resolve the situation."

Maxwell left the room as quickly as he had entered it. Waiting for him was his right hand man, a priest quite older than himself that took no shame in taking orders from someone so much younger.

"How did things go?" he asked Maxwell.

"As expected, Renaldi," the director answered. "Who do you have lined up for this operation?"

"Only the best. The team consists of an international assembly. From our European Branch, we have Sister Heinkel Wulf. Out of our Asian Branch, Agent Yumiko Takagi has been reassigned. I have selected Father Jim Draken as the operative in charge," Renaldi answered. "He has a penchant for discretion. He handled the recent scandals well."

"Didn't he have trouble with that one bishop in Boston?" Maxwell asked.

"Well, yes, Father," Renaldi hesitated. "But it wasn't out of a change of heart. He felt that as a priest, he wasn't of sufficient rank to do God's Will against someone above him."

"Unlike the other sections, no cardinal, let alone a bishop, would soil their hands like we do," Maxwell explained. "When it comes to doing God's Will, they all become cowards."

"Should I have chosen another as the Agent in Charge?" Renaldi queried.

"He'll do. Tell them they have a week."

Author's Notes

Just in case you're wondering, I made some personal modifications to how Iscariot operates. And unlike most stories that deal with the undead and fictitious monsters, I chose humans as the antagonists of this story. The things we can do to our own are more terrifying than the worst monster in legend. Also, this is based on the Crossfire manga, not Hellsing.


End file.
